


Nurturing Life

by MizJoely



Series: SherlollyPrompts [38]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Drabble, F/M, Post-Episode: s04e03 The Final Problem, Sherlolly - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-31
Updated: 2018-07-31
Packaged: 2019-06-19 02:41:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15500523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MizJoely/pseuds/MizJoely
Summary: This fic was inspired by this tumblr post by mollyandherjumper (now fettuccine_alfreylo): a little detail about molly's flat that makes me smile: the windowsill in the kitchen is practically bursting with plants. so much green. idk, there's something so poignant and sweet about a woman who deals with death on a daily basis nurturing life as well





	Nurturing Life

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fettuccine_alfreylo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fettuccine_alfreylo/gifts).



Death doesn't bother her. If it did, she'd quickly find herself out of a job, after all. No, being surrounded by death, day in and day out, doesn't bother her.

Not at work, anyway.

At home, however, that's a different story. At home she wants to remember that there's more to her world than just the end results of old age and violence and accidents and the thousand other ways to leave the mortal plane behind.

At home, she has plants. She has Toby and for a while she even had a fiancé and a dog. At least the two of them didn't leave feet first, she snickers when she's feeling particularly morbid.

She knows one day that Toby will be gone. That she will, too - she, and John and Sherlock and Rosie…

But she nips such morbid thoughts in the bud. Live in the moment, that's her at-home motto.

And in this particular moment, she's waging grim war against death, which has attempted to invade her sanctuary in the form of some kind of fungal infestation of her hydrangeas.

Not today, she thinks grimly as she applies the internet-approved (or at least, recommended) solution to the potted plant.

A week later, Sherlock comments on how healthy her plants are looking. She smiles as he comes up behind her, presses a kiss to her cheek, reaches out to finger the glossy green leaves, squeezes her hip and moves to put the kettle on.

"It's love," she pipes up, knowing he'll give her a confused look.

He does exactly that, brow scrunched, ridiculously adorable nose-wrinkle in place, eyes squinting at her doubtfully. "Really?"

"Nah," she replies with a giggle. "Just an extra dose of plant food and some all-natural fungicide."

He grins at her. Gone are the days when he would advise her that humor wasn't her area. Instead, he's as much a work in progress as any of her plants - still recovering from the events at Sherrinford, slowly but surely blooming into someone new - and yet, at the core, still very much Sherlock Holmes.

And that's just the way she likes - no, she reminds herself with a fond grin as he prepares two cups of tea - that's just how she  _loves_ him.


End file.
